


battre quelqu'un

by craftingdead



Series: charlie will make cd a common tag if it kills them [14]
Category: The Crafting Dead
Genre: Character Study, Fights, Gen, Minor Violence, also probably ooc at some parts but FUCK canon minecraft is different from "real life", gets kind of dark in some parts, sgcbarbierian refused to make nick cool so I Will, this is like from june but i forgot about it, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 08:12:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15636729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/craftingdead/pseuds/craftingdead
Summary: "Beat someone."Everyone's different, in their own little ways. From walking and talking, baking and cooking, hotwiring a car or breaking into a high-security vault, everyone does their own thing different.That includes fighting.





	battre quelqu'un

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact: the title is French for "beat someone" ;)

Everyone fights differently. You start to notice it the more you hang out with and around them. Whether it’s just shooting a gun, socking someone in the jaw or stabbing a knife into the space between someone’s ribs, everyone does it differently.

Nick fights like a dancer.

Well, dancer may not be the best word for it, Shelby was the more... graceful one. Acrobat would probably suit him better, but it doesn’t have quite the _ring_ that dancer has. Anyway, when Nick fights, he always looks like he’s performing: an idol, making their way across a stage with a glint in their eyes and a smile on their lips (he has blood running down his face). Every twist, turn and hit are precise, like he had been practicing them for some time beforehand. Though, most of the time, he’s completely clueless to whatever comes next.

The agility of his movements is impressive, really. A zombie lunges at him and he dodges it with a swift shake of the hips from left to right, the zombie’s hand and body falling down onto the ground hard as he puts a bullet in its head all in the blink of an eye. He’s fast when he needs to be, and most of the time, he knows it.

Even when he’s on the ground, when there’s blood gushing through his nose and he’s forced to put up a defensive stance, he looks… well, he looks animated, almost rhythmic. Body balanced to fit his lithe frame; he raises a hand and wipes away the blood on his face. Eyes darting around the room to look for an escape.

He can roll his body easily, bend into positions few can make, twist himself around hits and spring into action swiftly (like an inferno).

To some, the rhythm is a weakness, a way for them to pinpoint his next move. To others, it’s beautiful, some amount of grace in a world of ugliness and brash people pointing guns and knives and broken bottles and every other nasty thing you could imagine at every soul (living or not) they can see. To few, it’s both.

Well, until you give him a six-pound shotgun and ax and say, “Hey, go batshit!” Then he’ll trip over his own feet and more likely than not hit an ally instead of an enemy. Don’t give him a rifle and expect him to actually hit something. But, you give him a knife, point to a target and tell him to go wild, he’ll do it. Unless he starts arguing with you about whether or not said target needs to be killed, which happens more often than not. Stubborn bastard.

However… a lot of his skill was lost at the beginning, forgotten to time like most of his past, his family, his sister. But it’ll come back sooner or later (not when he needs it).

Ghetto, however, fights like a brawler.

He’s eager to rush into any situation he can get his hands on, charging down humans and zombies alike (like that time on the roof, fury raging in his chest). Despite his brashness, it suits him quite well, as he’s always ready to move and get onto the next thing and is and never has been one for sitting around doing nothing.

He’s the one to rush into a horde of zombies, guns blazing and cheering at the top of his lungs. He’s not ready to die quite yet, and his movements, his actions, they show it; he fights like the world's falling apart right around him and he doesn’t have the strength to hold it up, but even without that, he’ll try his damn hardest to keep himself alive. It’s one thing the world can’t take from him, right?

Unlike having the strength to hold the world up, he does have the strength to fight.

He’s the strongest on the team, that’s just fact. Despite AK being a force to reckon with, Ghetto beats him in the raw power category. He could probably punch through a zombies (or humans, even) skull if he tried hard enough (enough blood stains his hands).

Doing enough damage to get them on the ground is good enough—if they know what’s good for them (or if they’re dead), they won’t get up and follow. And, if they do, well, he always has his teammates to watch out for him, right?

That’s another thing about his fighting; he’s usually fighting for some _one_.

Everyone’s fighting for something, whether it be food, water, some completely random object that you don’t even need, etc, but not many people fight for someone. That’s what makes him different. He’ll rush in when his friends take too many hits, push them behind him when the thing they’re fighting gets too cocky, he’ll do it all.

But a lot of times, he can lash out with that. His overprotective nature can turn back on him—and he could do something horrific.

AK’s fighting style is… different, to say the least.

He doesn’t contain the specific speed and skill of Nick or the raw strength that Ghetto has, but he does have something completely different: a fucking brain. He knows what he’s gonna do, when he’s gonna do it and where it’s gonna happen. He’s a planner, a thinker (yet not when it comes to the important stuff, he’d probably let them die on accident, given the role of leader). He thinks the best in the middle of a fight, with rounds firing all around him and the stench of blood thick in the air.

Acting under pressure, if you would call it that, is his specialty (he had before, after all, if starvation counted as pressure). Pile ANY amount of stress on him, and he’s got you covered, already taking place at the highest location in the area, sniper rifle out and loaded.

Combine that with the strength that he does have, seeing as he is the second strongest, after all, and you got a strong, capable person who works well under pressure when others may not.

And you know that about him.

Dude looks scary as fuck, that’s a given. There’s this thing about him that’s just… off, like a human being shouldn’t be able to shoot from that high, see that angle, or, hell, even hit that target! His movements are stiff, robotic, even. He looks like he’s about to tell you to stop and give him twenty, even though that’s not the correct military term.

But, don’t worry, his bark is worse than his bite. He’s got his teammates’ backs, that’s for sure, as he’s not the type to run out into the fray—he stays back and makes sure the ones running face-first into danger are safe.

And despite that being good at the beginning stages, when he’s still with friendly faces and the real fighting hasn’t broken out yet, it makes him predictable. You can see the gears turning in his head, and you know that you need to stop it before you get your ass kicked six ways to Sunday.

But, whatever he truly does, however he does it, has been good enough to keep him alive this long.

Shark’s is, to be frank, quite ordinary.

He doesn’t plan things out, he doesn’t know every move he’s gonna use in a fistfight, he doesn’t know how to knock someone out with one hit, but he knows how to use a gun, a knife, a baseball bat when things get tough.

Bullets pelting through the door and sending shreds of wood and metal everywhere? He’ll make sure to get out of the line of fire but probably hit his head on something in the process. He doesn’t know how to snipe a man from a hundred feet away, he can’t do a barrel roll, but he can shoot a gun—that’s for sure. But whether or not he hits something is _usually_ up for debate.

He’s better as the bait, the one running out into the fray and yelling, “Over here! Shoot me!” as his friends creep around the back and take out the enemies (if they can reach them in time). It’s dangerous work, but it is damn useful at times.

However, his fighting style does have a perk; you can’t tell his next move. Seriously, he could hit you at a moment's notice or accidentally hit your friend standing a yard away. Is he swinging that rifle in a wide arc to distract you or hurt you? No one knows.

Also, that’s another thing: he’s strong. He doesn’t have a six-pack and he can’t lift five of him, but for a dude who grew up in the city and wasn’t in the military or had once burnt down a building or could take five dudes at once. Probably went to the gym once or twice a week and bragged about it online, you know, like an idiot, until shit hit the fan and everything went to hell in a handbasket.

But he’s brave, and he’s willing to risk taking a hit for a friend if they can no longer take one (like in the hallway, with Ghetto and Nick—who knows what might’ve happened if he hadn’t shown up?). He’s the perfect mix of brains and brawns to do something when he has to, even if that thing means throwing himself in the line of fire or impulse-punching the bad guy to get his eyes away from that suspicious sound coming from the vents.

But they’re all still alive. No matter how hard it was, how difficult life became, how much stress was put onto them—they’re all still kickin’.

 

 

 

 

 

For now.


End file.
